Real To Me
by Lady of Lake - Town
Summary: Reality was a foe to Whisper and finding it to be too aching, she escaped it through death. She assumed she would never wake up, never awake to a world that blinds reality or be the sixteenth member in a company with a quest of revenge...But she did.
1. Chapter 1

Reminiscing it too much of a strive now, my memories have slithered away leaving me in wonder. But one has not abandoned me yet, there is still a journey in my life that is vivid. I awake to it and spend endless nights retrieving every detail of it when I close my eyes. It is in my dreams. My mind won't release it because my heart doesn't.

Maybe I can if I told it for a final time.

Remembering correctly, it occurred when young, I had not descended into a state of creases upon my face and grays in my hair. No, I could run and not grow weary. The only ache I yielded was in my heart, a pain that burned to be healed by hope…

With a vigorous heave forth, the door swung to it's side and with it, I exposed myself to the outside world. I scowled only mentally at the sight; the sky blanket over by gray clouds and not even a mere witness of sun. Viewing made me sense the skirt of my floral imprint dress dancing with the gust and colliding around my unclothed legs.

How could one call this spring.

But I gave little heed to it, I did not amble out of my home to have an observation of the weather. Today I would be relieved of this prolonged agony, I was certain of it as I sauntered down the stone path. Doubted withered away with every step, my chains would be broken now.

I would be alright.

It was then after the curve embedded in the path I found myself hovering on the outskirts of my garage. For a moment I swore I felt myself resisting to take another step, yet it's power lasted only a second. Knowing that death would spare me from any more woe, I retrieve diminutive amount strength to continue on with my plan.

My eyes caught notice of the lawn chair, and then darted towards the rafters where a cable cord dangled from above. "I'm going to be okay now," I whispered, tears building within my eyes and my hands trembling.

Sobbing now would only waste time, so I hauled them away with a swift rub. "Remember what they told you…this is what they want, they want you to die," I remind myself through an impaired tone, my voice now breaking. "So give them what they want…it will be best for everyone." Whether I was lying to myself or my words were genuine, I still hoisted the chair from the cement floor and positioned it beneath the cord. I didn't think, I didn't want to.

Even when I lifted my leg to the chair. It lolled alone for a moment, before I brought the other and I stood high above the ground.

The cord brushed against my shoulder before my fingers encircled around it.

As it's movement halted, I brought it over my head and it draped across my chest like a necklace. My final moment, how abnormal it was to know that it would be spent in dim light, with a cool air coiling around me and bearing a heart that has been tormented. But the perish of it was only a step forth.

Do not think, I thought, there is no other escape.

My eye lids descended, altering my vision into sully. Breathing deeply, with my chest raising, I realize this shall be my final breath. Acknowledging it was what made me thrust the chair beneath me back. I felt myself fall but not collide.

My mind entered into a state of numbness, though I still heard my wail overcoming the sound of gurgling. A once clear vision I yielded was now being corrupted by a black haze. I screeched out to the shadows that spiraled around me, but still my breath lorned from me and my eyes could not see. My state made it difficult to think, though a wonder still erupted in mind.

Why am I fighting this, it's what I want.

No, saying 'want' sounds selfish and whinny and although I am those things, I for once had no doubt that death was much needed in my life.

It's what I need.

My beliefs were decaying, hope slipped from my fingers, so was death not the right option for me?

And as I understood that and remembered that my act was not pure, yet perfect, I felt a smile creep across my face. It was the final emotion I thought I would ever make.

()

As her eyes fluttered open, the fog that once devoured her vision begun to slip away. Once fully wide open a sharp rap of fear throbbed against her chest while she took heed that her surroundings had changed. A low ceiling was above head, structured like a dome and within it's center a chandelier hung.

Coming upwards from the bench she lounged upon, her sea green eyes gazed upon the walls that were close, yet made the room comfortable.

Such a diminutive sized it was, with walls covered by lining of cases filled with books and maps. Though it was not cluttered, it was clean and fully lit from the rays of a mid day sun streaming through the windows.

Releasing a downy moan of fatigue, she threw her legs over and encountered smoothness on her feet from a fray rug below. She did not speak though, her time was spent observing this room, grinning at it's beauty.

"You're up!"

The voice was a cheerful tone of a male, she assumed. And when she shifted her head to the direction of the voice, she found her belief to be correct.

Edging close to the archway was a man, one who made her brow alter into a V shape and her eyes blink several times for thinking that she was hallucinating. He was an abnormal height, one so different that it made her restrain herself from getting up because she feared of towering over him.

And his apparel differed from what she knew, he wore a light blue tunic with a wimbling gold pattern. It was accompanied with brown trousers that rolled up at the end, exposing his feet covered with hair on them.

A detail that made her eyes bulge out into the air.

"Odd to find you at my doorstep, just when that wizard shows up," he said, his words impaired from a pipe between his lips.

"Wizard?" inquired the girl, her perplexity holding it's power.

"Talking about adventures he was," rambled the man. "Don't see many big folk around the Shire, I just thought you might have been with him."

Gradually shaking her head, with fright consuming her, she said through a quivering voice, "Uh no, I'm sorry…"

"Then where are you from?" he inquired.

Cringing towards the question, her head shifted in the opposite direction where he could not see her face. As her fear combined with uncertainty, she begun to tremble within her seat and sense her breath abandoning from her.

A lump in the back of her throat begun to expand, making her chock out her words. "I…I don't…don't…don't have a home, I'm a traveler," she lied and sprung from the bench, reaching her hand towards him. "I'm Whisper."

Though doubtful of her respond, he still accepted her head and felt his wonder cease once catching the glimpse of a forced smile upon her face. "It's good to meet you, Whisper, I'm Bilbo, perhaps you would like to stay for a while."

***Cringe* My goodness, that was terry blow! (Terry blow = terrible)**

**Anyways people, I just felt like writing this, I'm bored with my life at the moment! I hope it doesn't suck that much that you haven't reached down here yet. It has? Crap! It's just like being on Wattpad all over again :(**

**I'm hated everywhere!**

**Ugh, anyways please review or follow…or favorite? Pushing it a little? Sorry…**

**Okay over and out! :)**

**xXx Lady of Lake – Town xXx**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey everyone!**

**I hope you can somehow look pass my grammar error, spelling error, OOC filled, crappy story and review, or follow, possibly favorite it?**

**Pushing it a little, aren't I? Sorry!**

**Also, I would just like to state this is a mixture of both the movie and the book (I'm halfway through it now). And also, I want to say, I'm sorry to J.R.R Toklien for taking his work and making it crap! I am so sorry :(**

**Well goodbye for now awesome people on ! :)**

**~ Lady of Lake – Town~**

Bilbo's fondness for visitors was fortunate for Whisper's sake. With his allowance, she lounged for the rest of the day in the comfort of his home. An exotic, eye – catching home it was, the décor differed from what she was accustom to. The hallways were tube shaped, similar to the frame of a tunnel, yet not dark like one. His home was overflowing with light, something that made her grin. The abnormal detail was that the only rooms that provided a window were the ones on the left side of the house, were you could view out to the meadows, the river and many other beautiful scenes that made the Shire. However, there was something even more brow rising than its shape, or its unlimited amount of pantries and cellars containing an endless variety of food, but how the house was under a hill.

"It's amazing," breathed Whisper, while seated on the steps outside.

"It is quite beautiful," Bilbo agreed. "You must see some beautiful sites on your adventures."

A smile emerged on her fair face. She was no adventurer, only a lie she had told him because the truth ached in her heart, not to mention it would impair Bilbo's view of her.

What she had done and the real she would now have to live in shadows. A plan for the advanced future was to become what she had said, embark on an adventure. This world seemed fitting for it, but tonight Bilbo had obligated her to slumber in his hobbit hole. He was quite appealing and there was a spare cot stationed in one of his pantries, making it difficult for Whisper to decline. She didn't.

She, instead, basked in the hospitality of the hobbit. A warm bath was given, along with fresh new apparel (a bit too small for her, though she was still appreciative) and a musky blanket from his storage chest. With fleet nod she gave thanks and revealed gratitude and begun down the hall to the pantry.

"Where will you go?" inquired Bilbo.

"I don't know, I never really do," admitted Whisper and shifted her gaze to him. "My life is more a series of unfortunate events at the moment, I'll find my way though." Fearing that she had said too much she darted from his view, abandoning him in the hallway, clothed in his robe and slippers.

She was such a timid human, the hobbit thought; perhaps it was why he never pried in her business. She was a traveler; it was all he needed to know and all she would tell. But soon he was retrieved from his ponder, a ring, that made a shudder creep across him and his gaze fling to the door, echoed through the hall.

The doorbell was what made Bilbo trembled, obviously flustered to hear such a noise at the time of day.

"Where you expecting someone?" inquired Whisper, who was now peering her head back into the corridor.

"No…no I was not," he replied.

None the less, he approached the door, the assumption of it being that wizard again rapped on mind as he did, but was astonished to find behind his door a dwarf.

He, of course, was short, yet had a muscular body – frame, shielded over by a dark green clock. And his shape was not deceptive, for he quickly opened the door fully and stepped inside, after a prolonged bow, while saying, "Dwalin, at your service."

Uncertain how to respond, Bilbo did the same. A low bow was exchanged, and he said, trying to gulp down his fear, "Bilbo Baggins at yours!"

Viewing as the dwarf advanced farther into his home, Bilbo directed his gaze to Whisper, who was now appearing from the hallway, the train of her dress sweeping across the floor. She too was consumed with wonder and a tint of fear.

"I'm sorry, do we know each other?" asked Bilbo, after a moment's pause.

"No," responded Dwalin, simply. He looked to Whisper, and then crouched in his back into a bow pose once again. "Lass."

"Uh…sir," she murmured and returned it with her own bow.

Giving little heed he heaved his clock on the coat rack, positioned to the door's side, while giving a fleet look to Bilbo. He then advanced farther into the house, while questioning in his broad tone, "Which way, laddie? Is it down here?"

Bilbo remained cowering next to his door, watching the dwarf slither out of his hood. To find such a vile appearing thing towering over him in his home was petrifying him, but not enough to ask, "Is what down where?"

"Supper. He said there'd be food and lots of it," responded the dwarf.

"He – He said? Who said?" The hobbit, now baffled far than he had been before, followed behind Dwalin, who was now emerging into the kitchen. Though before he was fully inside, his eyes and Whisper's fell into a tangled gaze, as she mouthed across the room to him, 'Do you know him?"

"No," said Bilbo through a timid tone, in hopes Dwalin would not hear.

Whisper could only shrug, uncertain how else she could retort. Strolling into the kitchen where the dwarf had found feast, she left the hobbit addled in his entrance. A smirk erupted on to her face after hearing the door bell ring for a second time. She could only wonder what expression Bilbo was now wielding from that noise. And much like she assumed, it was a perplexed one as he answered the door to yet another dwarf.

A common one, broad and wide, not to mention how he resembled mutable qualities of Dwalin. But there was only one detail that made him differ, the silver beard that hung over his chest and the creases in his face. He was an elderly dwarf.

With his arms spread out, he bowed and said, "Balin, at your service."

"Good evening," Bilbo forced himself to say, though altering into a numb state with confusion.

"Yes. Yes it is." As the dwarf hoisted his head up to the sully sky, he agreed with a nod and then hopped into the house, while stating, "Though I think it might rain later."

"Hm?" breathed the hobbit, sharing a fleet look to the outside where clouds of gray blanketed the sky and back to the dwarf.

"Am I late?" he questioned.

His mouth was slightly draped open, with his brow altering into a V while asking, "Late for what?"

Regards were taken little to Bilbo's question, for Balin took heed of his brother battling with one the hobbit's glass items, once stationed on the mantel of his fire place. But as his eyes wander from it, Balin slipped into his brother's vision and a smile roused on his face.

The elderly dwarf scuttled closer to his brother and entered into conversation, leaving both Bilbo and Whisper on the outskirts. But for once, Whisper did not stay hushed and moved to him.

"Who are they?" she breathed.

"Dwarves," he muttered.

"Well I know that," she hissed, furious to know he would treat her so folly like. "What are they doing here?"

"I don't know," he said, simply. But viewing from a distance as the two were farther consumed into the depth of conversation, he inched closer. "Uh, excuse me? Sorry, I hate to interrupt. But the thing is I'm not entirely sure you're in the right house." He approached closer, yet as he did the two strayed into his pantry. Dwalin had begun to fill a pint of ale, and Balin hovered behind. "It's not that I don't like visitors. I like visitors as much as the next Hobbit. But I do like to know them before they come visiting."

"Perhaps not always," said Whisper, who now edged close to the walls of pantry.

Swiftly acknowledging that she spoke of herself, a grin was lit upon Bilbo's face.

He did enjoy the common jaunt to his house from others, but if their arrival was unannounced he would surely be miffed. Especially, much like these dwarves, if they were ones he had never met before. Save Whisper, he wouldn't have allowed them inside. Though he could not understand why his rules had been broken when she came.

"I can always bend the rules," he chortled, a low, muffled chuckle it was. His regards only remained on her for a moment before its return to the dwarves, now skimming through his pantries. "The thing is I don't know either of you. Not in the slightest."

The dwarves, however, did not share the same attention Bilbo had, for theirs was prolonged on observing his food. They rambled to each others about moldy cheese, with their noses against the other things they encountered in the pantry. Dwalin had even heaved a piece of fruit out with displeasure. But still, Bilbo continued, with a giggling Whisper behind him.

"I don't mean to be blunt, but I had to speak my mind." As he roused his hands in the air, he said in a clear tone, "I'm sorry."

Immediately the dwarves shifted their head, their stares aimed in his direction. A pause was then rested into the conversation, before Balin said, "Apology accepted." He returned to his conversation with his brother, again leaving the hobbit in his confusion. Time to ponder only lasted a minute before a third rung had erupted.

"I'll go get it," recommend Whisper, reclining close to his ear.

"If it is another dwarf," Bilbo bellowed, "tell them they can't come in."

And it was what he expected, yet with a twist. Not was it one dwarf behind the door, but two.

"You're not Mr. Baggins!" claimed the youngest dwarf, who stood to the left of his brother.

Appealing to the eye he was on the girl and it almost made her resist trying to shut the door on him.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, then gave the door a full vigorous haul in hopes to shut it.

But his foot collided with it before the frame could.

"Where is Mr. Baggins?" The youthful one glared towards his brother, built the same way but with blonde hair and a beard that stretched longer. "Has it been cancelled?"

"What? Uh, no…no, it's just that Bilbo," uttered the human, before correcting herself. "Mr. Baggins is not looking for company at the moment. He asks, kindly, that you leave."

Taking regards to his name being spoken, Bilbo had been summoned to the front entrance. As the dwarves slipped into vision, he released a downy whimper, but approached.

"Ah, now you must be Mr. Baggins! Kili," introduced the young dwarf and his brother added, "Fili." Yet both said in unison, "At your service." They slinked out of their hoods, unlatched their weaponry and set them into Whisper's open arms. And though she wasn't expecting such a thing, she still forced a smile and rebounded. "Careful with those I just had them sharpened," cautioned one of them, while curving halfway through the hall.

Now left alone, Whisper shifted her pore to the hobbit, with her arms being weighed down.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, sincerely.

"Oh…it's quite all right, I'm sure they will gladly be on there way," Bilbo muttered, urging himself to appear confidence, yet fell short of it.

"Dwalin and Balin here already, I see," announced Kili, upon his arrival to the kitchen. "Let us join this throng!"

Shuddering by the word throng, Bilbo snatched a second to recuperate, but no matter what he did, he still didn't like the sound of it.

There was not much time to spare gathering his wits, because now the bell had rung again. It's sound more vigorous and piercing than the last. Bilbo answered it, Whisper not far behind, to not one dwarf or two, not even three, yet to five who tumbled in and as they scrambled back onto their feet, they left their hoods upon the coat rack. Oin, Gloin, Dori, Nori and Ori were their names, but neither Bilbo nor Whisper could remember them properly.

A moment later, after each pantry of the home had been impaired by the riots of dwarves, the final ring shrilled in the halls. Bilbo was in fumes and bewilderment this night as he sauntered to the doors.

His once cleaned home had descended into the ruins from these dwarves, all who were not invited into his home. Whisper, needless to say, did not mind them; she found them to be an amusing bunch. Though too devoured by amusement to take regards of the hobbit's absence and door bell ringing. She fleetly aroused from her seat, but was quicker to arrive to the door where three more dwarves had entered: Bifur, Bombur and Bofur. And crouching down low with his entrance, a staff in his clasp, was an elderly man who wielded a long beard like the dwarves, yet towered over them for he was quite tall. Gandalf he would be called. And behind was Thorin, a renowned dwarf who, save Bilbo, would be the center of his journey.

The journey, for both Bilbo and Whisper, which had just begun.

***Self – slap* That was horrid!**

**But please still review…or follow…possibly favorite :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello few readers!**

**Sorry for the late update….I'm very lazy, ugh it's such a burden :( Anyways, thanks to all those who followed, and favorite(yeah, I was shocked too by this). But it really helped my mood and now my life has purpose! Hmm, that's a little eerie…**

**Anywho, follow and review…or favorite…or review…or just follow, either way thank you =)**

**~ Lady of Lake – Town ~**

Bringing mayhem to his home, Bilbo found himself dashing around with the dwarves, altering him into a chaotic state. Finding time to retrieve his cluttered home back into its orginal layout was not possible, for the moment he took regards to Gandalf he came forth with his bewilderment and aggravation. His newest guest, save the dwarves, went unnoticed though, cowering close to the walls while viewing Bilbo's home descended into impairment.

This was common behavior for Whisper, for she was cursed with being a shy character. Conversation with her would turn more fleetly into tension, so she remained invisible. It was not her intention, nor did she mean to appear bitter or cold, this was just a clinging detail of her that could not be shaken off.

It, however, did not control her from beaming off a smile as Bilbo sprinted around, pleading for his visitors to be careful. Plates glided through the air from the feast, with him pacing with them, but the dwarves were tranquil and instead went into song:

_Chip the glasses and crack the plates!_

_Blunt the knives and bend the forks!_

_That's what Bilbo Baggins hates – _

_Smash the bottles and burn the corks!_

_Cut the cloth and tread on the fat!_

_Pour the milk on the pantry floor!_

_Leave the bones on the bedroom mat!_

_Splash the wine on every door!_

_Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl;_

_Pound them up with a thumping pole;_

_And when you've finished, if any are whole,_

_Send them down the hall to roll!_

_That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!_

_So, carefully! carefully with the plates!_

These lyrics, as the dwarves continued on with flinging his plates and cups to another, put Bilbo into a fret. Gandalf, however, did not share the same emotion for he was confident the dwarves would not do such a harrowing things.

And they didn't.

Bilbo and Whisper both sensed their eyes expand farther open to find the plates piled high like a pillar, yet properly. And although his house had retrieved its natural order, save thirteen dwarves and a wizard lingering in it, Bilbo still was uneasy, even as they joined in his dinning room to discuss their quests. He remained on the outskirts with Whisper close to him, knowing a little amount of what quest they spoke of.

"What news from the meeting in Ered Luin?" Balin was the first to begin, addressing his inquire to Thorin, as the dwarves assembled around the table. "Did they come?"

"Aye. Envoys from all seven kingdoms," he answered.

"All of them!" exclaimed the eldest dwarf.

It was then his brother entered his voice into the conversation.

"And what did the Dwarves of the Iron Hill say?" questioned Dwalin, seated across next to Gandalf. "Is Dain with us?"

Thorin's sigh revealed much dismay, as he said, "They will not come."

Murmurs and sighs spread across the table, being released by each dwarf. Even Gandalf's spirits had even been dampened by the news. The only person disappointment did grasp at was Whisper, who instead slanted towards Bilbo.

"They say this our quest and ours alone," continued Thorin.

"You're going on a quest?" questioned Bilbo, for his ears perked up by the words.

The dwarf did not acknowledge his prescenses and because they were loyal to Thorin, neither did the other dwarves. It was only Gandalf who took a moment to peer across his shoulder, where Bilbo had slipped into vision, stationed in front of the window.

"Bilbo, my dear fellow," begun the wizard, "let us have a little more light."

So with no protest, Bilbo shuffled out of the way, with Whisper following the same movement. She leaned close to him, while whispering, "What type of quest?"

"One that does not involve girls and hobbits," Thorin said, sharply.

This made Whisper rebound farther and for Bilbo, he had already sauntered off, returning with a candle in clutch, placing it on the table where Gandalf had spreaded a diminutive sized map open with a mountain drawn on it.

"Far to the East, over ranges and rivers, beyond woodland and wastelands," the wizard explained, "lies a single solitary peak."

"The Lonely Mountain," muttered Bilbo, whose gaze fell onto Whisper, and returned to Gandalf.

"Aye," Gloin said, "Oin has read the portents, and the portents say it's time."

"Ravens have been flying back to the mountain as it was foretold: When the birds of yore return to Erebor, the reign of the beast will end," cited Oin.

Whispers's head shifted towards the dwarf, as she took forth. Her mouth was merely draped open, with her brow transforming into a _V _shape. Confusion and memories awoke in her, as she asked, "You say it's ravens that fly back?"

The dwarves only reply to her question was through hasty nods.

"What is it?" Bilbo questioned, detecting the wonder consuming her.

"Uh before I di…" Her pore drifted towards him, perceiving the impulse to correct herself. "Before I came here I saw a raven flying over head…I guess they're right."

"Then what beast are you talking of?" stammered the hobbit, glaring to Oin.

Bofur snickered, "Well that would be a reference to Smaug the Terrible, chiefest and greatest calamirty of our age. Airborne fire – breather, teeth like razors, claws like meat hooks, extremely fond of precious metals."

"Yes, I know what a dragon is," Bilbo said, a tone with slight aggravation aimed to the dwarf.

For once the fright of speaking did devour Whisper and she quickly shouted out, without realization that she did, "And you guys are going to go kill it!"

"It would kill us before we had the chance," scoffed Thorin.

"The task will be difficult enough with an army behind us: but the number of just thirteen," Balin explained, "not thirteen of the best – not brightest."

With much umbrage fuming his companions, Balin received sullied glares and grunts from them, although his words spoke truth. These dwarves may have wielded an urge for revenge and vigor to carry around the weapons they did, but wit was not as easily found in them.

Perhaps it was the blond dwarf, Fili, who understood that for his fist collided with the table, making the other dwarves erupt from their seats. "We maybe few in numbers, but we're fighters! All of us! To the last dwarf!"

With another roar was another thump to the table, which made Kili entered into the optimism. "And you have forgotten that we have a wizard in our company," he referenced to Gandalf. "Gandalf will have killed thousands of dragons in his time!"

It provided hope and the dwarves to start bickering among themselves, even giving a chance for Whisper and Bilbo to exchange a set of perplexed stares. It was Gandalf who than roused his hand into air for protest. "Uh, well, no. I would say –"

"How many than?"

"What?"

"Well, how many dragons have you killed?"

A silence lingered on after Gandalf begun to choke on his pipe, resisting an answer and again, Dori and the dwarves demanded one. "Go on. Give us a number!"

And for a second time, chaos grew between the thirteen of them.

"Should they really be going together if all they do is fight?" Whisper said, recoiling closer to the wall, as she glanced to Bilbo.

He nodded, also witnessing the fury expanding and in attempt to seize it, he took forth and said, though uttered it, "Excuse me, p – please."

Shouts produced by the dwarves drowned over the Hobbit's plea, only Whisper took heed in it and responded, "Hmm, this kind of reminds me of my home."

Bilbo did not understand she was referring to the constant screams that put her in fright.

"Enough!" Eyes rested on Thorin, who had remained timid and stern until this moment as he came upon his feet. His tone seemed denser now, with a coolness corrupting his eyes as he addressed them. "If we have read the signs, do you not think others will have read them too? Rumours have begun to spread. The dragon Smaug has not been seen for sixty years. Eyes look east to the mountain, assessing, wondering, weighing the risk. Perhaps the vast wealth of our people now lies unprotected. Do we sit back while others claim what is rightfully ours, or do we seize his chance to take back Erebor?"

Cheers with belief filled the room, and Thorin's fist stretching high up. His speech gave determine to each, bringing glee upon their faces.

"You forgot – the front gate is sealed," announced Balin, impairing the joyful spirits and celebration. Even Thorin, who wield a smile, sensed it fade as the elderly dwarf continued on. "There's no way into the mountain."

"That, my dear Balin, is not entirely true," corrected Gandalf, being hushed no longer. Produced in his grasp was enlarged key, fading its silver color, yet extraordinary for it robbed the dwarves attention.

In both Whisper and Bilbo's eyes, it was nothing more than a key, they little did they know of it's value to Thorin and his company.

"How did you come by this?" inquired Thorin, his tone steady and deep.

"It was given to me by your father – by Thrain, for safe keeping." A feeble smile appeared on the wizard's face, with the loosened grasp on the key. "It is yours now."

Thorin, without hesitation, accepted it.

His eyes observed each detail, from its pattern to the bends, twirling it with the light.

"If there is a key," Fili spoke out, "….there must be a door!"

Returning theirselves to the parchment on the table, it was Gandalf who placed his finger upon the drawing of abnormal runes, saying they showed of a hidden passage to the Lower Hall. This brought much of the joy back to the dwarves, only to have them fallen back into dismay after Gandalf explained how the doors would only be invisible and he did have the skills to find the answer that lied on the map. "The task I have in mind will require a great deal of stealth and no small amount of courage," he continued, then shifted to Bilbo. "But if we are careful and clever I believe it can be done."

"We'll need a burglar!" exclaimed Ori.

"And a good one too. An expert I imagine," Bilbo retorted.

"And are you?"

"Am I what?"

"He's said he's an expert!" Oin rang out.

Hearing the words made Bilbo fall into protest, swiftly. "Me? No! No, no, no, no, no. I am not a burglar! I have never stolen a thing in my life."

"I'm afraid I have to agree with ," Balin said. "He is hardly burglar material."

Miffed he was not, but relieved to see the other dwarves agreed Bilbo glanced to Whisper, remaining silent. He caught a glimpse of what must have been disappointment exposing itself on her face, that she strived to hide.

"Aye, the wild is no place for gentle folk who can neither fight nor fend for themselves," agreed Dwalin.

Bilbo did not see any more need for debate, yet the dwarves did. Again, a verbal battle emerged, with the dwarves fighting over if they believed the Hobbit to be a worthy burglar to allow on their quest. In the eyes of some, he showed no fault, but to others he appeared feeble and frail.

Gandalf was not fond of the dwarves being so critical towards his choice. So he roused to from his chair, a shadow with him overtaking the room. The candles that once lit the room faded and turned dim. He towered over the dwarf subjects, his tone loud and sullied, making it echo through the walls and altering the dwarves from aggravation to apprehension. "Enough!" he demanded. "If I say Bilbo Baggins is a burglar, then a burglar he is."

More quicker than it had come, the darkness vanished and the candles beamed like before. It was the dwarves, Bilbo and Whisper who did not regain what had been as fleetly, still terrified by Gandalf's outburst.

"Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet. In fact, they can pass unseen by most if they chose, and while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of Dwarf, the scent of a Hobbit is all but unknown to him," said Gandalf, now more tranquil, "which gives us a distinct advantage." He then fall into his chair, stationing his pore to Thorin and continued, "You asked me to find the fourteenth – now fifteenth member of this company, and I have chosen Mr. Baggins. There is a lot more to him than appearances suggest, and he had a great deal more to offer than any of you know."

Their conversation in silence went on, providing a moment for Whisper to meet eyes with Bilbo, sensing the impulse to deny this. The desire to encourage him to venture on this journey grew in her, though she felt herself fighting it back.

The conclusion of the meeting was nearing and she knew Thorin must have found his choice when he ordered Balin to give the Hobbit a contract. "It's just the usual – summary about pocket expenses, time required, remuneration, funeral arrangements, so forth."

As he winced and refused the contract, Thorin torn it from the elderly dwarf's clutch, heaving it back to Bilbo. He then escaped to the hall with, Whisper not far behind, peering over him to read it. But the Hobbit was hasty when reading it, carefully unfolding, yet still having it descend to his feet making him whimper. Advancing farther into the contract, Whisper moved her stare back to see Thorin and Gandalf in their returning whispers, pondering on what they were saying.

" 'Cash on delivery up to but not exceeding one – fifteenth total profit if any'," Bilbo read out loud, giving off his own remarks. "Seems fair. Present company shall not be liable for injuries inflicted by or sustained as a consequences thereof including, but not limited to laceration…:"

"Now that doesn't sound fair," she snickered, but his gaze did not meet hers.

Shuddering in fear, he read, "Evisceration? Incineration?"

"Oh, aye. He'll melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye," mentioned Bofur, casually, like sharing an amusing tale.

"You alright, laddie?" asked Balin.

It was a question they all wanted to ask him, for the Hobbit was now crouching closer down, fading to a pale tone.

"Think a furnace with wings!" added Bofur.

"Air…" uttered Bilbo through a vanishing breath. "I – I need air."

"Flash of light, searing pain, then poof – you're nothing more than a pile ash!"

The rapid heart beat, dimming vision, lost hearing and the air turning denser made Bilbo lose balance. He continued to pace, but now with sweat lining his brow. An ache was occurring in his trembling legs, turning it difficult to stay up.

And finally, after a moment of impaired thoughts, he looked to them and proclaimed, "Nope," seconds before a downy thud as he collided with his floorboards.


End file.
